


The Loves of Frigga

by Roadstergal



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Childbirth, Compare and Contrast, Gen, Love, Mother-Son Relationship, Nerdiness, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 08:50:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadstergal/pseuds/Roadstergal
Summary: Frigga's children and her complex love for all of them.





	The Loves of Frigga

Her first child was the most difficult. The Aesir midwives relieved the pain, but it was nonetheless a degree of struggle and utterly draining effort that re-defined the word _labor_.

She fed the girl from her breast and taught her sedir - the girl was an eager pupil, staring at her intently from under her thick black hair, picking up gestures and spells as soon as they were seen. Odin taught her to fight, and she took to that just as eagerly; she was mighty on the battlefield, agile and fierce, mowing down enemy troops as a reaper mows grain.  She loved as long as she conquered; once she had mastered the seidr of the battlefield, she had no love for her mother.  And once Odin ceased to conquer, she had no love for him.

Many Aesir were slaughtered in the wars to subdue her, and Frigga mourned their deaths.  She mourned her daughter, too, though - the fierce girl who she had lost, buried by the demon she had become.

Her second child was, as is often the case, easier than the first.  Painless as well, but faster; he came from her with only moderate effort. She was able to hold him in her arms before falling into an exhausted sleep, stroking the yellow fuzz on his head.

She fed the boy from her breast and taught him sedir - the boy was an indifferent pupil, capable enough, but always staring longingly out of the window at the practice field with his bright blue eyes. Odin taught him to fight, and he took to that eagerly. He was mighty on the battlefield, powerful and unshakable, bowling over enemies like an enraged bull.  He loved easily, freely, and intensely, waking Frigga up early to give her fierce kisses on the holy days, grabbing her attention to show off his most recent weapon or conquest or captured snake.

Her third child was the easiest.  Small and quiet, delivered into her arms by her husband, as blood-covered as any she had borne herself.

She fed the boy from a bottle and taught him seidr - the boy was an eager pupil, soaking up everything she taught, and then building on it, creating his own seidr, relishing the arts of deception and illusion.  Thor taught him to fight, and he was an indifferent pupil; capable enough, but disfavoring the aggressive tactics of Thor, Odin, the generals.  They shook their heads at his sly, quick, dishonorable style, stabbing as quickly and mercilessly as a snake striking unseen from a patch of grass.  He loved rarely, particularly, with great difficulty.  He would sidle up to Frigga just to touch her, feel her presence before moving to his next activity.  His blue eyes would track Thor with envy.

 

* * *

 

It was easy for her to love Thor.  The bright, cheerful one, an immediate injection of energy and intensity into any situation. He wore his emotions outwardly, and his smile graced the room so easily and often. He was quick to sadness and quick to anger, but equally quick to leave either behind, to smile and kiss his mother and bestow effusive words of love on her.

It was easy for her to love Loki. The subtle one, the cunning one, the trickster, eager to make a joke that was so complex that it delighted them both when she comprehended it. He wore his emotions inwardly, under layers, and discovering one - teasing it out from behind his facade, turning it to the light - was unearthing a treasure. Anger and sadness burned slowly and steadily in him.  His smile was often wicked, but when he cast a genuine one to Frigga, it was a hard-won prize.

Her sons did play together, and it gave her joy to see.  Thor could pull Loki out of himself when he was too buried in his seidr, his aura freezing with icy blues and greens, and the bright sun would tackle him from the side to roll in the grass, green stains in their clothes and hair - _ha, I have you, brother!_

When she came across them playing chess in the sun room, it was always the same scene.  Loki thoughtful and strategic, taking time to think through his moves, his fingers brushing one piece, then another, before selecting one; Thor brash, putting the pieces down firmly and quickly, a full-frontal assault.  And when Loki won, Thor would glare at the board with his head in his hands.

_This is a stupid game..._

_If you were better at it, you wouldn't think so._

_And if you were better at battle, you wouldn't think_ that _silly!_

 

* * *

 

"So, what happened with Loki?"

She was just making conversation, poor girl - so out of her element, so confused, so unable to comprehend everything that was happening with her.  So frightened of whatever could make these people, these near-gods, worried, fall back to defensive stances.  And then to ask _that_  question...

"So much happened with him, child.  He was ever in Thor's shadow, despite my best efforts.  I don't know how I lost him." Frigga sat with a sigh. "But we did.  We lost him."  She mourned him, sometimes, as she had Hela.

"What happens to him next?"  The girl picked at her hair.  "I mean, you guys live a long time, right?"

No wonder she asked.  It must be a strange perspective, to know Thor first on his own - and then, later, to see him around Loki.  To see his easy manner and bright love, and then to see the confusion that was Loki darken it with storm-clouds.

"Loki is broken," Frigga sighed.  "I do not know how.  He is so broken that he is nothing but sharp edges, ready to cut if you try to touch.  My hope is to give him time to knit, to heal.  To be enough of himself to let me see.  To let me help."  She looked up at Jane's confused face.  "Thor's love is too direct, I'm afraid, to do him good right now.  Either of them."

"And what can I do?"

Frigga put her hand over where Jane's would be.  "Love my son.  He needs that - direct, strong, uncomplicated.  He is a rock, but even a rock needs a foundation, or it will roll aimlessly, smashing all in front of it."

Jane blinked, clearly out of her element, but trying.  Frigga continued. "You will understand in time, my dear.  And until then, keep this in mind.  Keep trying."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Loves of Thor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14358546) by [Kahvi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahvi/pseuds/Kahvi)




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